Business Transactions
by Seth da Hooded Bandit
Summary: Francis was prepared to pay such a gruesome price, no matter how skeptical he was, but he didn't expect his demonic dealer to be so...difficult. One-sided FrUK, FraSey.


**Author's Note: **This piece was largely inspired by Supernatural, especially with Bobby and Crowley's deal and other Crossroad deals made throughout the show. Ugh, I love FrUK too much, even if it is one-sided. The real ship in this one is FraSey. Enjoy!

I'm sorry, Arthur's kinda OOC and silly in this. :3

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He had put a lot of time and thought into all of this. He was certain that he was crazy, that the bartender at that run-down place was mentally ill, that the cashier at the confections store was hallucinating, and that the lady at the park was lying. Was there really such a thing as demons? So much lore, but most people still didn't believe in them. So, why was he out here to begin with again?

Still, despite every doubt that had crossed his mind, Francis was standing at a crossroads alone. Well, except for the small tin box in his hand. With everything that the "summoners" had said, they all were consistent with what was supposed to go in the box: graveyard dirt, yarrow, a black cat bone (you wouldn't believe what he had to go through to get that), and a photograph of himself. These regents were what was supposed to summon a demon, saying that they could preform miracles for the right price. He knew the grim price of what he wanted to ask, but this wasn't a matter that he wouldn't pay for, no matter the cost. He had to see her again. He had to see Michelle.

Ready for any kind of disappointment, Francis knelt down on one knee and began digging up a small hole in the gravel and placed the box inside. With a reluctant sigh, he covered it back up and took a couple steps away from the spot. Looking around the dark night, with only the moon and the mist to keep him company surrounded by all the dark trees and tall grass, he searched for signs of life, or rather...demonic life. After turning about to glance through trees and the down the road, still not so sure what exactly he was looking for - as he didn't know what a demon was supposed to look like - he called out into the night.

"I followed the instructions! If you're out there, then show yourself!"

Nothing but the howl of the clear night called back. Francis gripped his fists in frustration.

"I'm putting myself on the line here! I'm willing to make a deal, so get your ass up here!"

And yet nothing followed. Great, the stories were all fake and those people were insane. All their talk was just garbage for a fool's ear. He groaned, turning to dig up the box again, when he heard from behind him:

"Wow, we have an impatient one here, don't we?"

Francis twisted around to see a blond man with choppy hair standing before the pile of gravel where the box was held. Distinctive thick eyebrows and green eyes decorated him, and saying that the Frenchman was surprised would be an understatement.

"You look a little confused, frog. You shouldn't be," the man said, pointing to the ground, "You gathered what you needed to for a summoning ritual, so what's with the face?" He seemed incredibly amused.

"You're a demon?" Francis asked dumbly, as if it wasn't all that obvious.

"What did you _think _you were summoning?"

"I just...didn't think it would be, you know, true."

The demon smirked, "Ooh, I love skeptics!" He walked over to his customer, remaining ever so pleasant, "They're so much fun to meet, seeing them look so frightened and shocked by something that happens in the real world. Making them rethink what exists that they don't know about." He clapped his hands together and shrugged, "Alright, Mr. Skeptic, have any questions before I grant your wish?"

"Yeah. Everyone who I talked to said that the demon who met them was a _female _with brown hair_._ You're clearly not, what gives?"

"First you're a skeptic and now you're picky on who you make a contract with?" the blond demon huffed, his eyebrows furrowing, "That so offensive! I can tell that you don't even know _how _the contract is made, so why would you even ask a question like that?" His green irises flashed a bright red, and Francis wondered if he did that just to show that he was angry, or if it happened when he got excited too. From what he could tell, the eyes just changed color out of something that would get a heart pumping faster. Not that demons had hearts anyway.

"How can you tell something like that?"

"You clearly are skeptic, demons can do all sorts of things. We have this thing were we can tell the sort of nature behind statements. But that's just one of the powers we have. I don't have as many as others, considering I'm just a crossroad demon, but still. Thought that counts."

"How do you make a contract then?"

"Oh, we'll get to that in a minute." He chuckled, "I'm more curious to hear about you first."

"I summoned a demon to get a deal, not to get asked out on a date."

"Aw, afraid to swing that way, frog?"

"For a man or for a demon?"

"Forget it. Anyway, I don't like to call my work 'making deals', I prefer 'granting wishes'. I feel more like a jinn that way. And to answer your question about that fellow demon, my coworker was shot and killed by a hunter. She's out of a job for eternity, so I have to pick up the pace and work a little more."

"Demons can be killed? I thought they were immortal." Francis honestly didn't know why he was asking all these questions to this cocky demon, but for the price, he figured he ought to know some things about what was what, since this was what would await him in the future if he went through with this.

"Only a bastard with a strong enough weapon can kill a demon. I'm not that strong of a demon, but there are many who are much weaker than me; and, about up to my rank can be sent back to hell, just like," the demon snapped his fingers, "that."

"How?"

The demon looked appalled, "You expect a demon like me to tell some stranger how to send one of my kind back to the pit? Are you crazy?"

"I just wanted to see if it would work, you have quite a motormouth for a demon."

"As if you would know, Mr. Skeptic."

"Right, now enough with this," Francis crossed his arms, "I want to make a deal."

"You want to make a deal without introducing yourself first?"

"Are you always this difficult to deal with?" Seriously, this damned demon was acting like he wanted to be taken home instead of making people sign contracts.

"No, but I like to make exceptions," his eyes flashed red again and the demon winked.

"Go to Hell, you damn bastard," Francis hissed.

"That's where I live, not much good it'll do to send me there."

"Go fuck yourself then."

The demon's eyebrow twitched, "You ought to watch yourself, ass. Most demons would have left your desperate self back here and told the others downstairs about your stupid little attitude. Be lucky that I like you more than I detest the words you spit."

"Then stop playing with me, and give me what I came here for."

"Oh, but demons just love playing to their customers, so I'm just doing what you like, Mr. Francis Bonnefoy," he chuckled when the man looked surprised, "I know a little about who you are. Perk that comes with the job. You're known by your friends and lovers as the 'modern day Casanova' and other cheesy names that are quote on quote romantic."

"So does that mean you already know my wish?"

"Actually, I don't," the demon pressed a finger against his cheek, "That'd be a little more useful if we did, but we don't. So, have at it chum, what'll it be? What do you want?" He snickered, "And don't get sassy and ask me what I think it'll be, because you won't like the answer I give. And boy, do I have a good guess in store."

Far too irritated to dare ask on his opinion, the human said, "I want you to bring my girlfriend back from the dead."

The demon looked annoyed, "That's it?"

"What?! That's what I want! Bring Michelle back to life!"

"You're prepared to give up your soul, in exchange for your girlfriend's life?"

Francis snarled, "You have a problem with that? If you do, go call another demon to do business with me!"

The demon shrugged, "Look, I normally would have no problem sealing the deal on this one, but I really do like you, so I'm going to help you out a little," his carefree smirk turned into a deep frown, "it's not worth it."

"What in the hell do you mean it's not worth it?! I'm giving up my life for the sake of hers!"

"You said she was your girlfriend though. No offense or anything, but girlfriend is another word for 'possibly temporary'. She may dump you, and you may go to Hell for nothing. She's in Heaven, meaning she's safe and sound. And, even if you did go through with this, and you two decide to get married, you'll only have her for ten years. She'll be heartbroken once you're gone. If you bring her back to life and tell her about the deal, she'd probably bolt. I would."

"I want you to bring her back to life. Do I have to say it again?"

"Look Francis, think about your options before you go throwing your soul to me. One, you could sell your soul to bring her back to life, but you'd either get ten years with her or ten years without her, and you go to Hell no matter what happens between you two lovebirds. Two, you could live out your life normally and love someone else and die naturally, thus going to Heaven to see your beloved Michelle in whatever time that takes," the demon smirked, "And killing yourself, option number three, just sends your ass to Hell anyway, so why consider that one, right?"

"And, why does a demon care about me so much anyway?"

The demon laughed, "Because if you sign options one or three, you go to Hell. I wasn't lying when I said I liked you, and I'll be waiting on you," his green eyes glowed a fearsome red, "I honestly don't like forcing myself on others, but you're one special guy. You'll have me for all of eternity, and I guarantee I'll grow on you," he smirked, "So, with all of that considered, are you still going to sell your soul to me or no?"

Francis was still sure, "Yes."

"Certain? Hell's not a very lovely place. Why do you think we demons like walking around on Earth?"

"I said _yes_. I want to sell my soul to you."

The demon smirked, "Very well then." He leaned in close to Francis and said, "We demons seal our deals with a kiss, so if you're really sure you want to do th-_mmph_!" The thick-eyebrowed demon didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before his customer slammed his lips on his in a hard kiss, grabbing his head tightly and fisting his hair. He could see why others called him the modern day Casanova. Nice kisser. In ten years, he would be having this man all to himself. This bisexual _really _didn't know what he signed himself up for. But that was the fun part, he supposed. Ten years wasn't that long of a wait.

They parted ways and the demon nodded, "Our contract is complete, and once I leave, your precious Michelle will be in my place. Pleasure doing business with you," with a cute wave, he said, "Arthur."

"Arthur?" Francis asked.

"It's my name, and hopefully you'll remember it when your time is up, because if you don't ask for me right when you get to Hell," the demon made a face, "You're going to wish you did, with what they'll do to you if a demon doesn't want to play with you. The torture down there is pretty damn ugly, and they'll just keep beating you until you submit or you become a demon yourself, which takes a long time to accomplish, for your information."

"Just get out of here already," Francis growled, tired of listening to this monster ramble.

Arthur wagged his fingers and smiled, despite the rude comment, "You'll thank me in ten years. Have a nice decade!"

The demon went away in a puff of smoke, and in another puff of smoke appeared his copper skinned beauty, Michelle. She was alive and gorgeous, just how she was when he last saw her.

She looked up at him, "...Francis? Where are we? How did we get here?"

Francis nearly cried tears of joy, running up to her and giving her a tight hug, "It doesn't matter, all that matters is that I love you and I'm glad you're okay."

Michelle hugged him back, after a hesitant second, and laughed, "I love you too, but calm down Francis, it's not like I died or something." Francis's heart turned cold for a second, but didn't say anything about how she actually was dead. She giggled, "I must have been wasted or something, because I don't remember a thing. Where are we?"

"I made a quick stop, but we're heading back to the apartment."

"Oh, okay," she got out of the hug and smiled up at him, "You look like you're about to cry, _cher_. Lighten up a little, okay?"

Francis smiled, "I will." He couldn't possibly tell her that he sold his soul to see her again for ten years. It'd break her poor heart, and he was afraid that Arthur would be right if he did say something.

Letting the truth sink in, he put his arm around Michelle and led her back to the car. Sure, he just sold his soul to a perverse English demon, but for the price of ten years with Michelle, it was all worth it. He would prove that bastard wrong.

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**_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!_**

_Anyone wanna take a swing at what Arthur would have guessed Francis's wish to be? ;3_


End file.
